


The Wolf Among Us

by Ninniearts (XaljaRuno)



Series: Vargr Verr - Wolf Husband [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Anxiety, Blood and Gore, Deaths, Depiction of Injuries, Depiction of Violence, Gore, Graphic Depictions of Transformation, Graphic Description of Transformation, Human Matsukawa, Journey to self acceptance, M/M, Mutilation, Not an Omegaverse fic, Omegaverse Terminology, Platonic Relationships, Self-Inflicted Wounds, Slow Burn, Slow To Update, Social Anxiety, Soulmates, Supernatural - Freeform, Werewolf Hanamaki, Werewolf/Human Relationship, Werewolves, depiction of gore, touch starved Hanamaki, transformation gone wrong
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-11
Updated: 2020-06-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:47:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23104195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XaljaRuno/pseuds/Ninniearts
Summary: Silence settles over them as a heavy blanket. The articles burn at the back of his mind.A new body. An attack by some wild animal. A young girl found dead.Hanamaki bounced his leg, biting the inside of his lower lip. He should stop reading the news, he should stop watching the news the following days. It’s his punishment, he tells himself.Hanamaki Takahiro is a successful horror author with a secret. Every full moon he feels like he's losing his grip on reality, as he comes home empty handed. Matsukawa, his best friend and editor, tries to help him to the best of his ability. But there's only so much a human can do to help a werewolf.Tags, characters, and/or rating will be edited as the story progresses.
Relationships: Hanamaki Takahiro & Matsukawa Issei, Hanamaki Takahiro/Iwaizumi Hajime
Series: Vargr Verr - Wolf Husband [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1795615
Comments: 8
Kudos: 13





	1. There is a Wolf

**Author's Note:**

> So. Hi.  
> First post over here and I'm nervous as heck.  
> I'm more of the visual content creator type, so writing fics is not something I do often. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy this werewolf au!
> 
> Thank you Jake, for being my source of inspiration and just as big of a HanaIwa fanatic as me! ♡ฅ(ᐤˊ꒳ฅˋᐤ♪)  
> And thank you [Aly_writes101](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aly_writes101) for proofreading and editing! ♡♡+.ﾟ(￫ε￩*)ﾟ+.ﾟ

  
  
  
  
  


Running, running, _running_.

Lungs burned and his muscles ached. 

He was hunting.

He was gaining. 

He had found them.

A scream of terror.

A roar of anger. 

A taste of copper on his tongue, thick, and fresh. 

Red dripped from his maw, painting his lips as he softly nudged at the now rapidly cooling body. 

They were not what he searched for.

They were not who he searched for.

A howl, laced with pain and anguish, with longing cut through the night.

A howl that he didn’t recognize as his own.

  
  


* * *

  
  
  
  


“You look like shit,” a deep and familiar voice spoke in front of him, shaking him out from his half dazed state. 

Grey eyes looked up into dark brown ones, holding the gaze for merely a second or two, before he lowered his eyes onto the table again. He hated eye contact, almost as much as he hated crowds. A cup of coffee was placed in front of him. The strong scent of the drink further cementing him into reality, and shaking off dark clouds from his mind. Hanamaki mumbles a soft _thank you_ , before wrapping his pale fingers around the cup. It burns his fingers, further grounding him.

“Rough night?” 

Hanamaki nods, much to the dismay of Matsukawa. He feels like sinking further into his seat, to hide his face in the collar of his dark blue hoodie. Rough night, code for his wrong doings. For the pain and suffering he causes for others when he has no control over himself. Code for the misery that follows him the days after, and every time he reads articles. 

“Again? Hiro, that ain’t good.”

“I know, okay? I know.”

“I’m just worried.”

Hanamaki knows this. Eyes now fixate on the way Matsukawa is stirring his coffee, the clinking of the spoon hurting his sensitive ears. Lips pull up in a grimace. The clinking stops, and the spoon is set down as soft as possible. Not that it mattered with all the clinks and clanks from the other patrons, but Hanamaki appreciated the effort. The odd assortment of bracelets on Matsukawa’s wrist catches the light. Four in total. Two out of leather, one with small spikes, and the other a plain one. Colorful beads, and a tri colored braided one Hanamaki had done a few months back. It looked to be in a good condition still, even if the white, blue and green stripes were starting to get a bit muted. 

“One day you’ll be caught… and I don’t think I can help you when that happens.”

“I thought you promised to be my knight in shining armor and save me no matter what, Issei. I’m wounded.”

“You know what I mean, Hiro.”

“Yeah.”

He did.

Silence settles over them as a heavy blanket. The articles burn at the back of his mind. A new body. An attack by some wild animal. A young girl found dead. Hanamaki bounced his leg, biting the inside of his lower lip. He should stop reading the news, he should stop watching the news the following days. It’s his punishment, he tells himself. 

Matsukawa snaps his fingers in front of Hanamaki’s face, forcing him to concentrate on him instead of sinking deeper into his mind. A deep breath, and he mumbles _I’m okay_. 

Matsukawa offers him a sympathetic smile, before opening his bag to dig out a pile of papers. Papers Hanamaki is familiar with. His work, handled with care and finesse by his best friend, manager and editor. The pile is set down on the table, and Matsukawa rolls up the sleeves of his light blue plaid shirt. 

“Let’s get this over with, so we can ditch this place, yeah?”

Hanamaki just nods stiffly, scooting closer to the table, so he can focus his attention on what Matsukawa tells him, instead of the hussle and bussle of the caffé, the people. He knows he doesn’t have to accept these outings. Matsukawa didn’t mind coming all the way to his apartment. But he had to do this. He had to step outside from time to time. Sadly, this just happened to be one of those days his anxiety was worse. Gripping the cup, like it’s his lifeline at the moment, he fixates his eyes on the papers between them.

Matsukawa explains the parts that needed some further tweaking, where he felt like something could be added or elaborated a little. Hanamaki notices that Matsukawa had actually written him notes, both on a separate paper, as well as the margin of the pages themselves. The red pen had been used quite excessively, but Hanamaki didn’t mind it. In his mind it meant that Matsukawa cared, and wanted for him to succeed. Blessed be him and his kind soul, as well as the patience of a saint he seemed to posses.

“Though, I have to admit… I’m a bit surprised with what you’re going for this time.”

Hanamaki looked up a bit puzzled. 

“What do you mean?”

“It seems like you’re trying to dabble in…” Matsukawa rolls his wrist a little, which resulted in a vague gesture, before continuing, “... something _more_ than just horror? The main character is confused, longing for something. They seem lonely and sad, which is not a bad thing, mind you. It’s just, well, an interesting turn of events.”

Hanamaki frowns. He doesn’t remember writing anything in regards of… longing or other feelings. His niche was horror. Pure and simple. Perhaps he should rewrite it.

“You don’t have to rewrite it.”

“Could you stop reading my mind?”

“You were doing your _I’ll start over_ -face.”

“There’s no such thing as a _start over_ -face.”

“Oh, but there is, and yours was a great example of one!”

Hanamaki huffs and looks away with a pout. Matsukawa laughs, and scribbles down a few notes for the novel with his trusty red pen, which he pulled out from one of the many pockets of his bag. Hanamaki can’t help but smile. A voice in his head tells him he doesn’t deserve someone like Matsukawa as his friend. He ignores that voice.

After Matsukawa finishes writing down his notes, he tries to engage Hanamaki in a light hearted conversation, but Hanamaki stares out the window somewhat distracted. At first it was nothing in particular; people, dogs, cats, pigeons… Red car, blue car, white van, a truck. Just a typical afternoon, on a typical day, of a not so typical human. But then a pair caught his eyes. 

They looked to be having fun. Banter he couldn’t hear was exchanged. Hanamaki feels a little jealous of how they seem to be feeling so free, and at ease, compared to him.

One of them wore a dark, long sleeved shirt, topped off with a white t-shirt, black ripped skinny jeans, and loafers. He was tall, and beautiful, with hair that looked soft and well kept. A dazzling smile laced with mischief. Long legs that easily carried him forward as he animatedly explained something. Confidence oozed from his being. Hanamaki wished he could feel even an ounce of the confidence that that person seemed to carry with him. _It would make life so much easier_ , he thinks. _Or it could make everything worse_ , a voice supplies. Which is also true. Hanamaki knew his kind wasn’t the most… pleasant to be around, when their confidence levels spiked. 

But of the two, his eyes lingered the longest on the shorter male. He had dark hair, and tanned skin. The white t-shirt was taunt over his chest, while a denim jacket was tied around his waist. Simple form fitting jeans, and what seemed to be well worn sneakers. Not that Hanamaki could see much in the form of details from this distance, but he was sure the man was gorgeous up close. Broad shoulders, a slim waist, strong legs and arms. Damn, those arms. Undoubtedly they would offer a sense of security to anyone lucky enough to get close enough to this man. 

He feels his heart beat a little bit faster, eyes fixed on the two. Hands felt clammy. Fingers twitched, and he squeezed his hands into fists again and again. He didn’t know why, but he wanted to get out. Like there was something invisible pulling him out, to follow this mystery man he saw just for a brief moment. He wondered what his scent was like. Wondered if he’d think he’s weird, if he’d be scared of him… if he--- 

Fingers snap close to his face again and he blinks back to the moment, moving to sit down properly again. Since when had he stood up to lean closer to the window? Matsukawa looked amused over his embarrassment. Hanamaki felt his cheeks burn and he rubs his hands on his thighs, wiping the sweaty feeling onto his sweatpants.

“What was it, boy? A squirrel?”

“Shut up.”

Eyes flick over to the window again, but the two were already gone. Hanamaki swallowed down a disappointed whine. His heart felt a bit more heavy than a moment ago. Why was that? 

“Anyway, I think we got everything covered so far.”

Matsukawa neatly stacks the papers, and lets them tap against the table a few times. The papers and notes are then offered to Hanamaki, who takes them, and puts them in his bag. He’d have something to do over the next few days, it seems. Hopefully this restless energy of his wouldn’t stop him from doing his work. 

“Thank you for your hard work,” Hanamaki says, offering a small smile to his friend. 

Said friend smirks, and leans his chin against his hand. 

“My pleasure. Now tell me, what caught your attention just now? You’re rarely that focused on anything else but work.”

Hanamaki tilts his head back, staring at the ceiling for a few heart beats, before lowering his head again. 

“The thing is… I don’t exactly know?”

“Hmm.”

“Like, I don’t know if it was… them, or this feeling? Like I wanted to… to go? To follow?”

“In a good or bad way?”

“Good, I guess? I didn’t want to… you know, _hunt_ them or anything. It’s all just odd.”

“Is it, though?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Aren’t you feeling what you just wrote in your next best seller?”

“It’s not the next best seller, Issei. And I don’t know. Maybe?”

Matsukawa smiles and gathers up the cups, carrying them off to their designated area on the counter, leaving Hanamaki on his own to wonder what cryptid nonsense Matsukawa was sprouting. What did he mean by him writing his feelings? He didn’t feel… anything like that, did he? He was perfectly fine on his own. It was better for everyone if he was alone. It meant that everyone else would be, well, safe. 

It made him feel hollow, and he didn’t like it. But this time there was something else too. Something he has never experienced before. An odd tingly sensation. It’s so foreign. Scary even. Not knowing what it all was about, he lumps it together with his anxiety, and overall discomfort when it comes to crowds and public places. Gathering up his stuff, he is inching out from his seat as Matsukawa returns to grab his. 

“Ready to go?” Matsukawa asks as he pulls on his black bomber jacket, getting a simple nod as a reply. 

The small bell above the door chimes as they step out. 

Hanamaki’s sensitive nose is bombarded with more scents than before. He sighs. His nose is never going to get a break. Unless he’s sick. Which almost never happens, thanks to his blood. Hanamaki’s ears pick up sounds from far and near. At least the weather was warm and pleasant.

He’s nearly hyperfixating on Matsukawa and his presence. He’s what’s grounding him at this moment. He’s the one that keeps him somewhat sane. Hanamaki wonders briefly if it indeed had been a mistake to move from his hometown to this bigger city. But if he hadn’t moved, he might not have met Matsukawa.

Hanamaki knows his mother had been worried about his decision, and even his father had shown some apprehension. Both of them got a few new wrinkles that appeared practically overnight. _I should call them again_ , he thinks to himself, side stepping a scared dog and its confused owner ( _‘What is it, boy? What got you so scared all of a sudden?’_ ). 

“Do you have food at home?” Hanamaki hears Matsukawa ask him. 

“Some. Why?”

“We’ll stop by a grocery store so that you have food for the next few days.”

“Issei--”

“I know, you don’t like it. But we’ll just go in quick, grab some stuff, and be out. Then you can become your adorable hermit self again, until you’re forced to go out tonight.”

“It’s not said it’s going to happen again today.”

“You said that last time too.”

“I know but-”

“Takahiro,” Matsukawa stops to look at Hanamaki, his eyes serious and a few worry lines appearing on his features, “I don’t know what is going on with you right now, or what is making you act like this more than usual, but I’m guessing it is not normal.”

Hanamaki lowers his head, a sense of shame rolling over him. He fiddles with a strap to his bag, and shifts his weight from one foot to the other. Matsukawa continues with a softer voice, knowing well that the other is able to hear him just fine.

“Even by your standards this is unusual. Three kills, Hiro. Three over the course of a week.”

“...It’s bad, isn’t it.”

“Very bad.”

“.....I’m sorry.”

Matsukawa rubs his face. It was tough seeing his friend distressed over something even he didn’t understand. As a human, he had an even harder time grasping what Hanamaki was going through. All he could do was to offer his support. To be there for him, through the ups and downs. There just seems to be more downs lately. 

“It’ll be fine. But maybe you should talk with someone… When was the last time you spoke with your folks?”

“...Two months, I think.”

“What? Dude, they’re probably worried by now! Especially with all the news of the…”

“I know.” 

“If you don’t want to talk to your parents… perhaps seek out others like you?”

Hanamaki’s face contorts into a grimace. He didn’t like meeting others. Some were such assholes. Especially that one brat. _Fuck him_ , he thinks, _fuck Kouji, and everything he stands for_. A growl pushes up from his chest before he can stop himself. He feels himself shake, breaths more shallow as his heart picks up the pace. 

Matsukawa takes a surprised step back at the growl, but he’s quick to recover, already used to the antics of his nonhuman friend. His bag hits the ground as he quickly shrugs off his jacket, throwing it over Hanamaki’s head. They wanted to avoid any further incidents, especially now out in public.

A few people give them an odd look as they walk past them. Matsukawa just laughed it off, albeit nervously. 

  
  


Hanamaki, who initially had been startled by the jacket that is now obscuring his vision, is squeezing his eyes shut, gritting his teeth and swallowing down any other growls that tried to come through. _Breathe_ , he tells himself, _just breathe_. The comforting smell of Matsukawa surrounds him, and his quickened heart slowly gets back to a normal rhythm. Hanamaki breathes in the scent of tar and liquorice. He concentrates on the feeling of soft lining. 

A gentle arm wraps around his covered shoulders, and starts to guide him away. Closer to home, he notes, as he can smell the familiar surroundings getting closer with each step. 

The run to the grocery store had to wait. 

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


Once he’s home behind closed doors, he relaxes. Matsukawa is there with him, adding his own unique scent to the mix. Hanamaki moves the jacket off of him, and with shaky hands offers it back to the original owner, before moving onto his own. His bag thumps onto the floor, the jacket follows. He starts walking inside his apartment, before he’s even properly gotten his shoes off. They’re kicked off haphazardly somewhere along the way. Hanamaki flops down on his couch with a tired sigh. It felt like he’d ran a marathon, when in reality he was barely outside for two hours. 

Being an adult was stressful. 

Being him was so goddamn stressful.

Matsukawa joins him a few seconds later in the small living room, sitting down on the floor next to the couch. Long fingers brush through short strawberry blond hair. 

“Care to tell me what that was all about?” Matsukawa asks, voice soft, friendly.

“Got pissed…”

“That’s putting it lightly. You looked like you wanted to rip someone’s throat out.”

“I felt like it too.”

“Mmhm.”

Matsukawa doesn’t pry further. Hanamaki didn’t like to talk about stuff regarding his beastial side. He knew he could speak with Matsukawa about anything, and he would be willing to listen, and offer an outsiders point of view to his problems. But opening up about the issues were hard.

Matsukawa hums a soft tune, and Hanamaki enjoys the petting. It had taken Matsukawa a long time to get this far in their relationship. Mostly due to Hanamaki’s fear of hurting his friend, and also the fear of losing him, once he learned what he was. Matsukawa, however, had surprised him. After the initial shock, he was pretty quick to bounce back. It took him probably a month or so to come to terms with his friend not being a normal human. 

Slowly he had gotten comfortable enough to again touch him. Hanamaki did feel like there was a wall between them. If it was built by him, or Matsukawa, he wasn’t sure. 

But still, despite his flaws, despite him being a monster, Matsukawa stayed with him. Still cracked jokes, still hang out with him on saturday evenings. And nowadays he made sure Hanamaki ate proper food, took care of himself, and that he got out from time to time. Hanamaki was, after all, not a caged animal. 

_Only way to battle your anxiety is by facing it head first_ , he had said. And much to Hanamaki’s discomfort, it was true. His anxiety, and fear of crowds and public places were better nowadays, compared to what it had been months back. 

“Thank you.”

Matsukawa smiled softly. It pulled at his heart strings.

_Why’re you still friends with me?_

“What for?”

“Keeping me grounded.”

“What are friends for, eh? Now, about the trip to the store… Perhaps we’ve had enough excitement for one day?”

Hanamaki makes a noise of agreement. 

“Let’s order pizza today, and watch a movie. We can do grocery shopping tomorrow instead.”

“Okay.”

Hanamaki feels two gentle pats on his head, before the warm hand moves away and he’s left on his own. He feels warm and comfortable for the moment. He can hear clearly what Matsukawa orders. Curling up on the couch, he allows himself to doze off a little. He knows he can’t weasel out from the shopping trip tomorrow, but for now, it was a problem for tomorrow’s Hanamaki.

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


The pizza and their fizzy drinks arrived, and Hanamaki dragged himself off the couch so he could join Matsukawa in the small kitchen. The pizza was divided between the two, equal amounts of slices, even if Matsukawa insisted on giving Hanamaki extra. The human did know he burned a lot of energy. Hanamaki, however, refused.

“I think… that you should consider dating.”

Hanamaki choked on the pizza he had been chewing -- a horrible coughing fit following as he gasped for air. It took a few firm pats on his back and some water for him to finally be able to squeak out _excuse me?_. Teary eyes look up at his, now obviously insane, friend who had the audacity to look amused from where he was once again seated, on the other side of the table.

Fucking bastard.

“I think you should consider dating.”

“Are you _insane_?” 

“When it comes to caring about your wellbeing, apparently, yes.”

“ _Funny_.”

Matsukawa chuckles and has another bite of pizza. 

“But in all seriousness, I think you should.”

“Are you turning into my mother, Issei?”

“I might as well, since you’re not talking to her.”

Hanamaki squinted at his friend, the bridge of his nose wrinkling. Matsukawa waved his hand. 

“I just think it would be time for you to expand your social circle. Plus, it would do you good in general to make new friends.”

“And you think dating is the right way to approach that?”

“It’d be like ripping off a bandaid.”

  
  


Hanamaki chewed slowly, eyes now on the table. He knew Matsukawa was right. But there was an issue with the whole idea. 

“...You know I’m not a human.”

“I don’t think you should let that stop you.”

“But I could hurt them, Issei. You know what I do when I turn. If I was to, hypothetically, bond with someone and then end up hurting them, or even worse, killing them, I could never forgive myself.”

Matsukawa sipped his drink. Sprite, Hanamaki noted. He was yet to touch his cherry flavored coke. The silence stretched over them for a few seconds longer, before he spoke up again.

“In my _professional_ opinion, you’re overthinking.”

Hanamaki snorts.

“What profession would that be? _Werewolf shrink_?”

When Matsukawa laughs, Hanamaki feels at peace and even chuckles a bit himself. Matsukawa holds his can of soda up, and points a finger at Hanamaki.

“That’s the one! _The Awoo Whisperer_ , since 1985”

“You weren’t even born then.”

“Hush, boy.”

“Here I thought you were my editor slash manager. Ah, the wrongs of this world.”

Hanamaki leans back in his chair a little, the back of his palm against his forehead, with his head tilted back slightly.

“Oh woe is me.”

“Hiro, stop.”

Hanamaki grins, his sharp canines visible. It was much easier to goof around when he was home. Matsukawa eventually comes down from his giggle fit and sighs. 

“I don’t think I can.”

Hanamaki sighs, leaning against the table. Matsukawa offers him a small smile. A hand is reaching over the table, and Hanamaki takes it, without hesitation. It’s a comforting gesture. Matsukawa’s thumb brush over his knuckles.

“You _worry_ way too much, Hiro.”

“No. I’m _scared_.”

“But you also worry about stuff that hasn’t even happened yet, and even past events.” 

“I can’t help it.”

“I know.”

Hanamaki takes a deep breath, then looks up at Matsukawa who is just silently observing him.

“I hate it when you’re right.”

“Someone has to be.”

“You’ve been wrong, though.”

“And even then my rightness record™ is exceptional. Hiro, you can’t live your whole life alone, cooped up in a tiny apartment. You’ll go nuts.”

“I already am.”

“No, you’re just scared. Like you said.”

“...”

“Don’t get me wrong, you’re allowed to be scared. You just can’t let it consume you to the point where you can’t function and live your life.”

“Yeah.”

“We’ll take it slow, okay? We’ll keep doing these small outings, and slowly add to them.”

Hanamaki nods. Just walking through his neighbourhood had been a challenge in the beginning, but now he could run errands. And when it got too much, he could call Matsukawa for help. He tried his best not to. 

“Can we watch a movie now?”

“Of course.” 

Matsukawa got up, and as a result let go of his hand. Hanamaki missed the contact already. Next Matsukawa raided Hanamaki’s cupboards for snacks he knew his friend undoubtedly had. And he wasn’t wrong. Sour Cream & Onion chips, and half a bag of marshmallows were on the menu today.. Hanamaki had moved to the living room, and was browsing Netflix.

“What are you in the mood for?”

He asked when Matsukawa sat down next to him. The human stretched his arms over the back of the couch, as he got comfortable. A silent invitation. Hanamaki’s skin prickled. Curses. 

“Romcom.”

“No way in hell.”

“Why’d you even ask me if you’re gonna shut me down like that?”

“I’m not letting you brainwash me into thinking I need romance in my life.”

“But you do.”

Hanamaki puts on a horror movie.

“Oh god why…”

He hears Matsukawa mumble next to him. Hanamaki grins. 

“I need my dose of inspiration for the book.”

“You’d think you wouldn’t be lacking in the horror department when it comes to ideas, or material in general.” 

“You’re right. I don’t.”

At the opening scene, Hanamaki pulls his legs up onto the couch, curling up on himself. He can feel Matsukawa’s fingers brush over the back of his shoulders. Slow, and gentle. Hanamaki feels a sense of calm wash over him and he sighs. Odd how much a simple touch could ease his mind. Still, it’s not what he’s craving. Not what he wanted. But what did he want? He didn’t know. 

Hanamaki frowned mentally. _Amazing. You’re almost 30, and you don’t have your life figured out._

_Time is running out._

_What time?_

In the end, he is not concentrating on the movie. Instead, he stares blankly at the screen, and how the main characters are being idiots, as per usual. Matsukawa is startled by a jumpscare. He laughs it off like a champ, and continues to draw small circles on his friend’s nape, even if his fingers twitch a little due to the scares in the movie. 

Hanamaki smiles to himself. He wanted to curl up against Matsukawa, and just indulge for a moment. He didn’t move, though. It wasn’t his place. 

He sighs, chin on his knees as he hugs his legs close. The thought of meeting new people was unnerving. Making new friends was a lot harder than to just sign a book and thank someone for their support. It took effort. Trust. It’d mean that he’d have more people to worry about. 

_You could have your own pack_. 

A voice rumbles at the back of his mind. Hanamaki blinks, lowering his left leg, while still holding onto his right. 

_A pack_.

He lowers his other leg, and reaches for the marshmallows. This time, he scoots closer to Matsukawa. He’s not sure if Matsukawa’s words are seriously impacting the rational side of his brain. 

The human briefly glances over to his friend before turning his attention back to the TV and the movie. 

Hanamaki bites down on a pink marshmallow, letting the piece sit on his tongue for a few seconds, before rolling it around in his mouth and finally chewing. The thought of a pack was somehow appealing. 

One of the major issues a pack in the city came with was some so called territorial disputes. Nothing like in the wild, of course, but a lot of posturing and competitions. Showing off, and one upping each other. Of course, fights could break out, especially during the nights of the full moon. 

Hanamaki was glad he was the only wolf on this particular block, so he didn’t have to deal with assholes. He pops the second half of the marshmallow into his mouth and fishes out another one from the bag. The soft sugary treat is squished a few times before he tosses it into his mouth to savory the sweet taste on his tongue.

Creating a pack did mean he’d have to meet other wolves as well. It meant he’d have to prove his rights to potential leadership. That is, if he even wanted to be a leader. It all sounded exhausting and like a pain in the ass. 

Matsukawa shifts in his seat a little, and Hanamaki finds himself pressed against the human fully. He tenses up, but as tanned fingers rub circles on his shoulder, he sighs and relaxes again. 

_Does a pack have to consist of wolves?_

Hanamaki’s eyes widened slightly for a split second. What if… Just, what if?

“What’s on your mind?” Matsukawa asks him, voice as calm as ever, with a hint of curiosity. Hanamaki stares ahead and chews absentmindedly on the squishy sugary confection--corn starch caught onto his lips. 

“‘M just thinkin’...” He finally answers Matsukawa.

“About?”

“...Stuff.”

“Vague. I can dig it.”

“Ass. I’m trying to figure it out myself at the moment.”

“You know two heads usually think better than one?”

“Yeah, but I have… I have to give it some more thought first. Just give me a day or two.”

“Sure. Take your time.”

“I’ll tell you, I promise.”

“I know.”

  
  


The movie is nothing but background noise by now. Matsukawa is leaning his head against Hanamaki’s, his fingers still rubbing soothing circles on his shoulder, occasionally trailing down his arm slowly. Hanamaki could hear Matsukawa’s heartbeat. A little faster than usual, due to the movie he was still following to some extent. 

_What a champ, powering through it._

Hanamaki is still trying to figure out if a pack consisting of humans and one wolf would even work out. It sounded absurd. There wouldn’t be a pack dynamic. At least, not in a traditional way. Did he even want that? He grumbles, and stuffs two marshmallows in his mouth.

Matsukawa observes as Hanamaki munches through marshmallows like it’s no one’s business-- wondering how he doesn’t feel sick from all the sugar he has inhaled so fast. Then again, his friend has always had a sweet tooth, which was kinda funny. Matsukawa sighs,rubbing his cheek affectionately against the soft strawberry blond hair. 

He can hear Hanamaki purr in appreciation. Matsukawa smiles to himself. Hanamaki would be fine. He’s sure of it. But he also reminds himself that he can’t push Hanamaki too much out of his comfort zone too soon. The fact that he even seems to consider getting out there more to meet new people is a miracle in its own. 

It’s been five years since they met, and Hanamaki barely even mentions other people to him, other than his parents of course. Then there was this Kouji person he seemed to have some beef with. Matsukawa has yet to meet him, but based on the few rants Hanamaki has had, he didn’t sound like _that_ of a bad person. 

It was something else about the boy that irritated Hanamaki. 

  
  


The movie comes to an end and the mile long credits start rolling. Matsukawa’s hand is firm on Hanamaki’s shoulder, as he shakes him a little, getting the other to look up at him. 

“Will you be okay?”

Hanamaki nods. 

Matsukawa presses a soft kiss on his temple, and Hanamaki finds himself smiling at the soft gesture. Matsukawa gets up, and stretches with a soft groan. He already missed the touch and warmth of the human. What’s left of the marshmallow bag is put on the table.

Hanamaki gets up and follows Matsukawa to the door. Neither of them mentions the leftover pizza that Matsukawa should be bringing with him. 

“So, I have some stuff I need to take care of first thing in the morning,” Matsukawa speaks while pulling on his jacket, “but I’ll come by around noon. If I’m late, I’ll text you, okay?”

Hanamaki nodded. 

“Sounds good.”

“If you need me, give me a call.”

“I will.”

Matsukawa picks up his bag, and turns to face Hanamaki.

“Whatever you’re thinking about right now, don’t fret it.”

“I’ll try not to.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Stay safe.”

“Always.”

And with that Matsukawa stepped outside. Hanamaki closed and locked the door, leaning his forehead against it. There was still time before sunset, and before the moon would appear on the sky. 

Hanamaki grabbed the strap on his bag and dragged it after him to the living room. Sitting down on the couch again, he dug out his unfinished novel, all the notes Matsukawa wrote him, and his phone. 

2 missed calls: **mom**.

1 missed call: **dad**.

3 new voicemail.

Email and social media notifications he just swiped off the screen.

  
  


If he talked with his parents, he’s sure he’d get some answers to some of his questions. He’d just have to answer a few of theirs as well. 

_A fair trade._

Hanamaki takes a deep breath, and chooses to call his dad. He’s less likely to be scolded first thing that way. It takes a while before the phone is picked up, and a gruff voice from the other side answers:

_“Hello? Takahiro? Is everything alright? It’s been a while since you last called.”_

“Hi, dad. Yeah, I’m… fine. Just been a bit busy with… stuff.”

_“...You don’t sound fine. What’s troubling you?”_

Hanamaki bit his lip and leaned his head back against the couch, staring at the ceiling of his dull little apartment. 

_“Takahiro?”_

“I need some advice. From both of you.”

_“Wait a minute.”_

Hanamaki can hear his dad call for his mom, and a moment later there’s rapid footsteps approaching his dad. His mother is whining and probably trying to wrestle the phone out from his dad’s hands, who is laughing and telling her to calm down. Hanamaki smiles to himself.

Okay, so he missed them.

_“You’re on speaker--”_

_“Hanamaki Takahiro, you’re in great trouble! Care to explain to me why you have not called or even texted your own mother in months?! Do you know how worried sick I have been with all the news making headlines over the past two weeks?!”_

Hanamaki flinched. How she managed to make him feel like he was 10 years old all over again was something he didn’t understand or could ever get used to.

“Sorry, mom. It won’t happen again.”

_“It better not!”_

_“Sweetheart, he had a reason why he’s calling us.”_

Bless his dad.

There’s some murmuring on the other side of the line as his parents discuss something, then a whine, a chuckle, and he hears his mother’s voice again. Now much more calm than before.

_“You’re not in trouble, are you?”_

“No, mom. I’m not. But…”

_“But?”_

He takes a deep breath. Fingers thrum against his leg, that now starts to bounce.

“I think something is wrong with me, but I don’t know how to fix it.”

Silence.

His dad speaks up.

_“Why don’t you start from the beginning?”_

“Okay, so, two months ago...”

  
  
  



	2. Inside me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _The beast devours the human, causing unadulterated glee to bubble up on the surface of the beast's mind._
> 
> _His beast was once again free._
> 
> _And it was hunting. Without anyone restraining him. The human was now silenced for the night._
> 
> * * *
> 
> Hanamaki learns something and realizes another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warnings for this chapter specifically:** gore, mutilation, self-inflicted wounds, transformation gone wrong, relatively graphic depictions of transformation.
> 
> Please proceed with caution.
> 
> I also have a certain vision when it comes to creatures, so I am putting all of that in this fic more or less. Enjoy!
> 
> Thank you [Aly_writes101](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aly_writes101) for proofreading and editing! ♡♡+.ﾟ(￫ε￩*)ﾟ+.ﾟ

Two months ago, in January during the full moon, Hanamaki had run out from his apartment in the middle of the night. Wearing nothing but his pajama pants he ran down the dark streets in speeds no human could ever be able to replicate. During his run his appearance changed. Each time he passed a street light, the changes became more prominent. 

Bare skin rippled and tore open, shreds falling to the ground and shrivelled up. His body soon covered in thick sand colored fur. Arms grew longer, his fingernails shaped into long sharp claws that dug into the ground with every leap and bound. His height was also affected as he rose another two and a half feet.

Icy grey eyes turned more predatory, reflecting what little light there were. His mouth stretched into a maw; sharp teeth and long canines extended. 

During his shapeshifting, his pants were torn as he grew in mass, leaving the tattered remains to cling desperately to his hips, soon to be left behind as he continued his desperate run, aching bones and muscle with every step.

  
  


He changed direction, his nose twitching as he followed one scent, then another. He needed to  _ find _ . To find something. Someone? The pull of something suddenly had him turn, crashing around a corner. He slams into a car and yelps from the impact. The alarm of the vehicle starts blaring, waking up the owner who came to inspect the ruckus. But Hanamaki is already gone, leaving behind nothing but a large dent on the passenger side door. 

The distance by foot would, under normal circumstances, take up to 20 minutes, but Hanamaki was at the jogging site in a little over three minutes. Panting, he stops for a moment, ears alert as he listens to the sounds of the night. What little nocturnal life in the animal kingdom was present were quiet, with the exception of a few dogs barking in the distance. 

It was winter, it was cold. The night was dark. Yet the darkness was pushed back somewhat by the cold blue moonlight. 

Saliva drips from his furry lips as his ears swivel around. Tilting his head back, he sniffs the air. There are runners. He can smell all of them. There's also the scent of someone. Someone he so desperately would like to meet. 

_ But why? _

The scent is so faint; barely there. It meant the human had just passed by this place earlier during the day or the one before. It teased him. It begged him to follow. To catch.  _ It was so sweet _ . He followed the trail, mind cloudy, his step light. It pulled him gently forward, towards this someone. This someone who was… his? 

But then... but his nose was filled with the scent of others. Their scents are stronger, more present. It covered the one he wanted to follow.

He grew annoyed quickly. The annoyance slowly turning to anger and then rage. Why was he being disturbed again? Lumbering forward he soon was on a collision course of two joggers returning from their run. Laughter, a discussion of cars, wives, kids...

The oppressed human side of Hanamaki is crying deep within him. Why would people be out at night? Why do they have the need to get into dark places and parks? 

Hungers start to gnaw at the wolf’s insides with sharp needle-like teeth, ripping and tearing at his flesh from the inside. His mind is still clear enough to tell himself  _ no _ . Sadly, it is a battle he will lose, he always does. There is no force on this earth that could stop him. His human voice grows ever more silent, subdued by a black beast with glowing red eyes.

The beast devours the human, causing unadulterated glee to bubble up on the surface of the beast's mind.

His beast was once again free.

And it was hunting. Without anyone restraining him. The human now silenced for the night.

  
  
  


On that night he had attacked two joggers. Tearing one of them apart in a matter of seconds, while the other had tried to process what was happening. When the wolf lifted his head, his maw dripping with fresh blood, and pieces of flesh dangling from his teeth, the remaining human screamed, stumbled backwards and then tried to run, to escape, while his friend gurgled and wheezed on the ground. Bleeding to death.

Hanamaki was on top of the fleeing human in one gigantic leap, biting down on their delicate neck; cracking bone, ripping flesh, sinnue, skin. 

Crows gathered to sit on dim street lights, observing the macabre scene in front of them, as the wolf tore into the human’s body over and over. The sounds of wet ripping, squelching of flesh as it’s chewed and gobbled up, bones cracking and shattering filling the night air.

He only stops eating when he hears approaching footsteps. Ears point into the direction of the sound and he lifts his head up. Growls, hunched protectively over the corpse,  _ his corpse, _ he was still eating. Grabbing the human by the leg, Hanamaki dragged the remains away from the road and into the more forested area of the park, leaving behind a red smear, bits of flesh and intestine.

Horrified screams alerted others, and soon sirens blared in the distance. The sounds were annoying. They made his ears ring. Hanamaki disappeared into the night, searching, longing. Still hungry. Still not satisfied.

The body of the second victim was found by the police a little bit later.

  
  
  
  


But if Hanamaki wanted to be honest with himself, it had all started over six months ago. It just had started to culminate and get worse over the past two months. 

Six months prior, in September, he had stumbled upon a scent he had not noticed before. Six months ago, this odd desperation to seek out someone had started. The scent had been faint enough for it to just leave an irritating buzz at the back of his mind. A reminder of something missing in his life, which he couldn’t understand or explain. 

But it just kept getting worse, and worse. 

He would occasionally stumble upon the sweet sweet scent. It got the beast in him restless. It wanted out. It wanted out so desperately, that one time, during a new moon in December, he felt like he was burning up. His bones breaking and reforming, His skin too tight and uncomfortable to be in. Hanamaki twisted and turned on the floor of his bedroom like a worm on a fishing hook. Screaming in agony as his body was against him.

The old lady next door got worried, and she came over to offer her assistance. Knocking on his door she tried to ask what was wrong, and if she should call someone. Somehow he managed to croak out 'leave me alone', that 'I'm fine'. But he wasn’t fine, and he didn’t understand why. Takahiro sobbed, crawling on his stomach to the bathroom, squeezing himself into the bathtub. He refused to look at himself in the mirror. 

Who knew what he'd look like. He didn’t want to see himself, as he felt like he was an abomination. His shoulders were too wide, one arm too long. Everything was disproportionate and his head was killing him. He wanted to scratch his throat open, to dig his eyes out. He curled up, cold water cascading over him all night, all the while nearly chewing his own arm off as he muffled the rest of his screams by biting himself.

Sometime in the morning, he woke up to a gasp. Matsukawa had come to check on him, and with his spare key had let himself in. The tub was still pink from the blood he'd spilled, and to top it all of, there were tiny bits of flesh in the cold water still pouring down on the miserable form that was Hanamaki. His flesh. From his arm.

It had been nothing but a blur after that.

  
  
  


Casualties with his teeth marks littering them started to pile up faster since that night. His frustration grew, and his anxiety skyrocketed. It was like he kept building up energy. More and more, until it got too much and he just snapped. His mind was constantly running with thoughts. There was an itch under his skin he couldn’t get rid of no matter how much he scratched, metaphorically or literally. 

His parents listened. Acknowledging his words with hums and other soft sounds, and the typical words of "aww, baby…" cooed by his mother. 

It took him nearly an hour to get everything out, but it felt good. It was a relief to get it all off his chest. Even if he didn't exactly remember everything clearly. Even if it was just a bunch of muddled feelings of his and his beast.

He let out a shaky breath once he was done, leaning over with his forehead in his hand. Listening intently to what was going on on the other side of the line. He could practically see his parents look at each other with worry, and then at him with pity. 

No. Not pity,  _ concern _ .

_ "Takahiro,"  _ his father started, voice as deep and calm as ever,  _ "what you are going through is… It is not normal.” _

“What do you mean?”

_ “Well... You’re still young, but you’re slowly closing in on the age when you should be settling down,” _ his mother’s voice comes through the speaker.

“Ugh, mooom--”

_ “Takahiro. Listen to your mother.”  _ There’s a warning to his father’s tone.

“... Sorry.”

_ “As I was saying, you should be settling down, and have a family of your own. Even if you would outlive humans, even if you could regenerate and heal your wounds, you can not get back the years that you’ve spent already. Us wolves usually have someone by the time we reach your age--” _

“So I should just go and find someone to date? Is that it? Is that really all there is to fix this, to find a partner? In that case Matsukawa should be plenty enough to--”

_ “No. What you’re going through, is more than that. This is more urgent.” _

“What do you mean?”

His mother stays quiet, probably worrying her lip as she always does when she thinks about how to word something properly.

“Mom?”

_ “What your mother is trying to say, and what we think this is, is that you have found your soulmate. ...Well, sort of found ‘em.” _ his father steps in.

“Soulmate? But that… that is just a legend, right?” 

Both his parents are silent. Takahiro feels anxious. He got off the couch and started pacing the living room. Shaky fingers brushed through his short hair. 

“Mom? Dad?” he whined.

_ “Takahiro. This is important,” _ his father’s voice comes through, serious and laced with a worry.

“Yeah?”

_ “You said that all of this technically started last year… in september, correct?”  _

“...Yes?”

_ “You need to find this person, this soulmate of yours, before the autumn equinox.” _

“Why? What happens if I don’t?”

His mother’s voice is soft, yet it fills his stomach with nothing but ice cold dread as she utters the words,  _ “You won’t be able to turn into a human anymore.” _

  
  
  
  
  


* * *

“I talked with my parents,” he says while turning a red bell pepper around in his hand. Matsukawa next to him looks over, blinks slowly, and proceeds to take the bell pepper from the wolf. 

“How’d it go?”

“...Mom was pissed at first, as you can imagine.”

“You’d think your dad would be more scary.”

“I know. But it went... well… ish.”

Matsukawa nods, and puts a broccoli in the basket next to the bell pepper. He’s aware Hanamaki wasn’t speaking the whole truth. The wolf was tense, spacing out more than usual and seemed to operate more on autopilot than anything. 

Then again, speaking of the contents of the call in a grocery store wasn’t exactly the ideal place. Too many ears, too many people. Matsukawa would have to wait until they’re back at Hanamaki’s apartment to inquire more about the phone call. 

“That’s good,” he still says. 

And “yeah” is the answer he gets.

They moved to the next isle, and then the next. 

Cereal, porridge, canned goods, pasta. The basket was slowly filling up, with additions of snacks, and some absolutely horrible wheat milk drink Matsukawa doesn’t understand how his friend could down. After the trip to the frozen food section, it was time to leave. 

  
  


Closing in on the register, Matsukawa was talking about some event the agency was planning, but Hanamaki found his attention wavering. He was thinking about what his parents had told him, mostly, but soon he found himself staring at the headlines.  _ Police requesting assistance in capturing a rogue animal. _ The night’s events from three days ago came crashing back into his mind like a tidal wave, and he feels nauseous. 

The hustle and bustle of the store faded off into the distance. His ears were ringing, drowning out all sound yet also somehow allowing him to hear everything at the same time. Pressure built up in his head, hands felt sweaty and as he looked down, he could see his fingernails grow. He hugged himself, tucking his hands in his armpits. 

Matsukawa, when he didn’t get a response to his question, looked over to Hanamaki just to see what state he was in. Following his gaze, he was quick to step into the line of sight of his friend. Grey eyes snapped up to his brown ones, wild, scared. Matsukawa smiled softly, raising a hand that was soon laid heavy on the wolf’s head. 

“C’mon. We’re almost out,” he says, and then gently guides his friend through the register. Hanamaki lets him. Five minutes later they were out. 

  
  
  


* * *

“So, you talked with your folks,” Matsukawa's voice rings out from the kitchen where he is putting away groceries. The owner of the kitchen was laying on the couch, trying to recover from the outing and the anxiety it brought with it. 

“Yeah.”

“Is the contents something you’d be willing to share yet, or do you need time to think?”

Hanamaki stared at the ceiling, listening to the cupboards opening and closing, the drawers being pulled open and pushed closed again, the rustling of bags, the clonks of the cans. 

“Hiro?”

“Do you believe in soulmates?”

“Ha?”

“You heard me.”

Silence stretched out. It was thick and it was making him feel nervous. He could picture Matsukawa staring into his direction, as if he just had said something controversial, or like he just cleaved into two. He took a deep breath, held it, and let it out. Hanamaki nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard Matsukawa’s telltale hum. 

Bastard.

“Soulmates, huh… Was it one of the topics you guys spoke of?”

“Y-yeah. Yeah, it came up… among other things...”

“Hmmm…”

There was a soft thud of a can being put in place, and then a click as the magnets keeping the cupboard doors shut met. 

“It’s a pretty common trope in romance,” Matsukawa says, hand still on the white painted door he just closed. He then turns to take the shopping bag, and gets to folding it. It was soon in the form of a neat triangle, and put back into one of the drawers in the kitchen for the next time they went shopping. Had it been Hanamaki who put the bag away, he’d just stuffed it in, not caring if parts of it would be sticking out after closing the drawer. 

“If you could not go all work mode on me with this, it would be awesome, really,” Hanamaki grumbles from the living room.

“Haha, sorry. Soulmates, soulmates…” Matsukawa muses, filling two glasses of water, and brings them with him to the living room. Hanamaki sits up as he’s handed his. Matsukawa leans against the back of the couch all casual.

“I think it’s possible. For soulmates to exist,” the human finally says, which has Hanamaki look up at him with surprise.

“Yeah?” 

“I mean, if  _ werewolves  _ exist, then why not? Why wouldn’t it be possible to have soulmates too? Besides, it is a pretty nice idea, that everyone has someone that they are meant to meet-,” he says, taking a sip of water, “- be it romantic or not.”

“Hmm…” Hanamaki stares at the water in his glass, nodding slowly.

“When you put it that way it does make sense.”

“I always make sense.”

“No you don’t.”

“I’m  _ wounded _ , Hiro.”

Matsukawa smiles at his chuckling friend. Leaning his cheek against his palm, he keeps his eyes on the other. 

“Why so curious about soulmates?”

Takahiro bites his lower lip, staring at the floor. Matsukawa counts the seconds that tick past. Pink lips part to speak but Hanamaki closes his mouth again, frowning. The human thought it was rather interesting to see how his friend tried to formulate his thoughts into words, struggling despite being skilled in the craft, given his profession. 

“I…” 

Matsukawa’s attention is fully on Hanamaki, expectant. He had a relative idea on the topic already, given the earlier question. Even so, he was not prepared for the next sentence that spilled from his friend’s lips.

“I think my soulmate is in town.”

  
  


* * *

  
  


Matsukawa sat on the couch cross legged facing Hanamaki. Hands on his lap and his glass of water on the table next to them. Hanamaki mirrored his position, with the exception of him still holding his glass. 

They sat in silence as Matsukawa took in the information he had just been provided with. Hanamaki tapped his fingers against the cool glass, staring at the water that barely even rippled. Matsukawa hummed and immediately had Hanamaki’s attention on him.

“So you're telling me,” Matsukawa starts, “that you need to find your soulmate  _ before _ autumn, and that you think they are here. In town. Like,” he points down with his index finger, “ _ right _ here.  _ This  _ city.”

Hanamaki nods. “Yes.”

“Wow.”

Wow indeed. Takahiro takes a long drink of water. 

“Well, that should be easy then.”

“Huh?”

Hanamaki knew Matsukawa sometimes  _ be wildin’ _ , but this was ridiculous even on his standards. 

“I mean, you have a nose? You can use it. Sniff ‘em out.”

“Dude, I can’t just start walking all over town sniffing out someone I’ve never met.”

“Hey, it makes it a lot easier, than to just have you go to bars and hit on random people -- which I was going to suggest we do at some point, by the way -- but since you now have a deadline on your lovelife, you better start sniffing.”

Matsukawa made it sound so easy, even if he didn’t exactly appreciate the word  _ deadline _ being associated with his lovelife. Hanamaki briefly wonders if he should have told Matsukawa why it was so important to find this person. Maybe later? ...Definitely later.

“I’m not a bloodhound.”

“You’re practically the ancestor of one, like seven times removed. Stop being so-- so  _ you _ , about it!”

“What else  _ could  _ I be than me?!”

“Proud of  _ who  _ you are? That would be a good starting point.”

“Why would I be proud of being a werewolf? It’s just caused me anxiety so far.”

Matsukawa ran his fingers through his black hair, tilting his head back as his hand went to the back of his neck. Cheeks puffed out with a sigh and when he looked over to Hanamaki again, his expression was more stern. It was evident he was frustrated, and Hanamaki felt a little guilty for it.

“Just because you are one, doesn’t mean it’s a bad thing. Jesus Christ, you are the  _ only one  _ who is hard on yourself about it. Besides, that’s not the only thing you’ve got going for you! You,” he reaches over and pokes Hanamaki in his chest, “are a successful author. Your books sell as physical copies and online. Hell, there’s also a few getting made into audiobooks!”

Hanamaki scratched the tip of his nose a bit bashful, a small awkward grin on his lips.

“Yeah… I guess that’s pretty cool.”

“It’s cool  _ A. F. _ Hiro, stop concentrating on what is holding you back. It is clearly making you miserable. Try instead to think about your future.”

“You make it sound so easy.”

“That’s because it is.”

“But is it really?”

“You just told me that you have a soulmate that the universe chose for you! Everything around you is practically throwing you a bone here, and you’re looking the other way! Why is that?”

Hanamaki swallowed. Matsukawa was right. He had a path set to a future with someone for him. He had someone he was destined to meet. If he really thought about it, and allowed himself to indulge in the thought of actually having a soulmate, it did make him happy. Even the wolf inside him was content. 

“...I’m… I’m just… scared. It’s all happening so fast, Issei… What if they don’t like me? What if they don’t want me? Hell, what if I can’t find them? I’ve only ever caught a faint scent of them! And then when I think I have a trail, someone comes and ruins it.”

“You’re letting your anxiety do the speaking here.”

Matsukawa shuffles forward, their knees now touching. He puts his warm hands over Hanamaki’s own that still holding onto the water glass. 

“Stop. Thinking.”

Hanamaki blinks, surprised, confused. 

“Wha-- what do you mean?”

“Stop thinking. No more  _ what if _ . Every time you ask yourself  _ what if _ you start spiraling into more what if -scenarios. This just causes you anxiety, and stress. Am I correct?”

“...yes.”

“Okay. We will now work on to stop that mindset, alright?” Matsukawa waits until Hanamaki nods. “We’ll find you a therapist, and they will he--”

“What? No! Issei, I can’t do that! What if--”

“A-a-aa! See, we need to break you out from this!”

Hanamaki shut up quickly, lowering his eyes to the hands covering his. 

“You are immediately going for the worst outcome, without even knowing if something bad  _ will _ happen! Now I’m not a therapist, and there’s only so much I and google can do for you. You need professional help. If nothing else, you will at least get tools to work with.” 

Matsukawa had a point, he notes. Even if meeting new people was a hassle, and it made him so damn nervous he barely was able to sleep, he nodded. 

“Yeah… Yeah, alright.”

“Good.” 

The pleased voice of his friend made him feel good. Hanamaki couldn’t help the small smile that settled on his lips. He should rely on Matsukawa more. Closing his eyes for a moment, he took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. 

“Do you think there is a therapist who would be… experienced with someone, or something, like me?” Hanamaki asks, wiggling his toes. Matsukawa pursed his lips and stared into space for a moment. 

“I’d imagine. There are quite many of you, right? You supernatural beings, I mean.”

Hanamaki nods.

“Then there are probably also doctors, dentists, physicians… who knows! This city is pretty big, so anything is possible.”

The wolf tilted his head a little. It was true. There were a lot of people in just this city alone. It wasn’t said that he and a few werewolves were the only ones of the supernatural kind. Surely there were others. Somehow it made him feel a little better. 

“We should start looking for options. Starting with the therapist, and then go from there?” Hanamaki suggest carefully.

“Alright! Let’s do that~”

Matsukawa’s excited grin was contagious, and Hanamaki found himself grinning back almost just as wide. 

  
  


* * *

  
  


Two days later, Hanamaki found himself laying on his living room floor at nine p.m., staring up at the ceiling. The light from one of the lamps in the kitchen illuminating his dark living room just enough. He was partially under the coffee table, his legs sticking out from the other side. Next to him he had one of the bags of chips he had bought with Matsukawa last time they went grocery shopping. 

He still had a few snacks left, then he’d need to stock up again. Which sucked. He didn’t want to go shopping again. 

His work was spread on the table. His web browser open with at least 20 tabs-- information on this and that, locations, images, dictionary and translation websites. The text cursor blinks on his open document, waiting for him to return to his writing. The corrections were all done.

The laptop was whirring loudly while trying to cool itself off.  _ He’d have to get a new laptop at some point. _

It was just for him to progress his storyline. Problem was, that he just didn’t know how to proceed. The main character was stuck, and if he thought about it, so was he.

  
  
  


His wolf was snoozing, curled up content in the depths of his mind, not bothering him at the moment. It was a pleasant moment of silence and calm as the waning gibbous moon was slowly approaching the last quarter phase. 

The bag of chips crinkled as he reached in for a few more chips. There was nothing interesting on his ceiling, other than dust that was stuck on something that probably was a spider web, or bits of one. 

_ I should spring clean… _ he thinks to himself, as the chip crumbles between his teeth. He didn’t have energy for cleaning. 

Matsukawa had earlier sent him the location of the therapist he had found. Surprisingly enough, it wasn’t that far away from his place. He’d be there in less than 15 minutes by bus. Damn he hated buses… So many people. Maybe he could walk... 

Another potato chip finds itself in Hanamakis mouth.

But if he did walk, there would be a chance of him chickening out. It wasn’t an option at this point.

He should also do something for Matsukawa. As a thank you. It would only be fair, given the amount of help he offers him. Hanamaki swallowed. Had he even once told Matsukawa how much he appreciated the help? A deep breath through his nose. Another potato chip gets nibbled on. 

_ I’m so selfish, _ he thinks to himself, brows furrowing.  _ I never do anything for him in return. _

All he does is wallow in self pity. He keeps panicking, he keeps getting anxious. He lets his negative traits take a hold of him way too often. The least he could do was to man up and actually try to do his best. But had he done that? No. He’s doing the bare minimum. 

Matsukawa has to go out of his way to drag him out from his apartment. From his semi detached modern home. Matsu--- Issei lived more centralized in the city. In his cozy studio which Hanamaki had visited a grand total of once.

The werewolf grimaced, and the chip was popped into his mouth and he chewed on it slowly. Fingers were wiped onto his shirt. Both hands now on his stomach. He sniffled. As he swallowed, he could feel tears roll down the corner of his eyes. 

“Fuck… I’m the worst.”

He whispers to no one in the empty room. The clock on the kitchen wall ticked and tocked. The sound loud in his sensitive ears as he softly sobbed. His heart felt heavy, his chest tight. 

Just what kind of a friend was he? 

Issei may act like he was a saint of patience, but… Hanamaki was sure it would run out at some point. There’s only so much a human can tolerate. How long was it until his friend would reach breaking point? 

Hanamaki rolled onto his side, but the table was too low and stopped him by his hips, he settled back down on his back again, an arm draped over his eyes instead. Sharp canines dig into his lower lip and a low whine rips from his throat. 

Over five years of friendship, and he only now notices how much of a douche he actually is? Hanamaki opened his mouth to say something, but all that comes out is a wheeze and whimper. His heart ached so badly. 

His phone buzzed next to him with an incoming message once, twice, three times.

He hadn’t even spoken with Issei about building a pack. Would he even want to be part of one?  _ You wouldn’t know, since you didn’t ask him!  _ Hanamaki snaps at himself.  _ Ask him! _

“What’s the point if I can’t turn back to a human after the autumn equinox?” he asks himself in a shaky voice.

_ Who says you won’t turn back? Who says this is a lost cause? _

Hanamaki blinks his tear filled eyes open. 

Ah. No one. No one but him. 

Hanamaki pulled himself into a sitting position. Wiping his eyes with the bottom of his palm he reached for the phone. The notification light blinking green. Unlocking the screen, there were a few messages on Line, but also social media notifications. Someone named  _ Kinglien  _ was praising one of his books. An older work of his. He read through a few of the tweets in the thread the guy had written, or was writing. 

Hanamaki liked three of the tweets. Then he opened his messaging app to see what was up. Yuda and Sawauchi were asking how he was doing. Hanamaki answered the messages with a simple _ ‘I’m alright. Work has kept me busy. You?’  _

Next there were two messages from Kouji, of all people. Why the brat kept texting him was beyond him. But the content wasn’t new. In fact, it was the same old thing that he keeps getting. 

**Kou.:**

_ Bitch.  _

_ Try not to kill my cousin when he’s out running, you unstable freak. _

He doesn’t even know who that cousin is! If he was so worried over his bloodkin, he could instead tell his stupid cousin to not go out running in the middle of the night. Stupid brat. Hanamaki growled to himself, ignoring being called names. He also decided to ignore the chat further, though five minutes later, new messages popped up.

**Kou.:**

_ I’m serious! _

_ If you kill him, I’m after your hide! _

_ Don’t leave on read, asshole! _

_ Oi! _

Hanamaki muted the chat once a flood of angry stickers started to appear on the feed. Getting up, he shuffled to the kitchen, grabbing one of the wheat milk drinks. Last one. Uncapping it, he downed in a matter of seconds. The time showed closer to ten. Looking out through the tiny kitchen window, he could see the moon illuminate the night in addition to the light pollution. 

His wolf stirred, but settled down. 

The empty plastic bottle was tossed in the trash, and Hanamaki washed his face with cold water. The puffy feeling after crying was the worst. He let the water drip down back into the sink from his skin, as he stared at his distorted reflection. 

It was scary. 

All of this. 

He had lived alone for so long now, with the only support in his life being Issei. Meeting his supposed soulmate was… scary and exciting at the same time. Scary, as he didn’t know if it would work out, but exciting, because there was someone out there that was meant for him, and only him.

A pale hand wipes what little drops of water still clung to his face away. The same hand is then rubbed on a bare neck. He was starting to feel warm. 

The wolf inside him was starting to wake up.

The moon climbed higher onto the sky.

Hanamaki went to the living room again, wiping his damp hands on his pants and shirt. As he picked up his phone, he noted his nails growing longer. He tapped out a message, his claws clicking against the screen as he did. 

After he was done, the phone was dropped onto the couch. It bounced once, twice, and settled. 

Hanamaki took his shirt off, undid the strings of his sweats. The backs of his palms were starting to get more hairy. Breaths got shorter. Gritting his teeth, his back curled as his spine cracked and realigned. He stumbled forward, hitting the floor with a thud. 

Head on the floor he groaned in pain as his spine grew in length, a tail soon pushing out slowly, slowly, and then out from the confines of his pants. The pants slipped lower, and with his wriggling, they soon were off. He wasn’t wearing underwear. Fur grew at the base of his tail, his happytrail getting longer, and sandy in color.

His ears migrated from the side of his head up. A clawed hand reached for the door. More bones break and dislocate just to snap back into place. Hanamaki twist and turn, jerk and jolt. And then he’s out. Running away from the confines of his home. 

  
  


On the couch his phone lit up with a message from Issei.

**Hiro:**

_ thanks for everything _

  
  


**Matsu:**

_? _

_ U r welc? _

_ u k? _

  
  
  
  


Hanamaki’s heart is beating fast in his chest. It skips a beat as a new wave of pain struck him. Someone screamed, but he couldn’t care less. He had no time to care. He needed to run. He needed to run so badly. It had probably just been one of his many neighbours from his block.

With the next inhale, his ribs broke, causing him to cough painfully. Another shaky inhale, more broken bones healed over. His chest now twice the size it was, his height stretching to its fullest. 

The moon was still rising, and his wolf inside got more restless. Hanamaki ran on all fours. Dogs barking in their yards in fear and aggression. He ignored them, even if his wolf wanted to shut one or two of them up. 

He heard a glass bottle shatter, he heard shocked gasps and confused and horrified cries. There were too many people around, so he disappeared down one alley, then another. Zigzagging through the neighbourhood in search of the freedom his soul and wolf yearned at the moment.

His nose picked up scents; his favorite bakery, fast food joints, various markings done by pets and drunk people. His senses were so sharp. He could see so much better, hear so much clearer. Hanamaki leaped over a car and sprinted off into the direction of the suburbs. There was more space there, than in the outskirts of the city. 

And a little further from there, lots of forested areas to run freely in. He couldn't wait to feel soft soil under his hands and feet, to roll in long grass and--

Him and his thoughts came to a screeching halt. Eyes wide, he sniffed. Nose twitching he tilted his head back, trying to determine what direction the scent was coming from. His heart was beating faster, but for a different reason.

The scent was much stronger this time. Hanamaki takes a tentative step forward, then another. Ears flat on his head he peers around a corner. Nothing. 

He snorted in disappointment. Yet, the scent was still there. He couldn't just step onto the street and follow the scent. The alley he was in brought him some cover from curious eyes. There was no cover on the street. And he could already hear sirens in the distance from his careless running earlier.

_ Detour. _

The scent seemed to be going towards the park. Nervousness settled in his veins. 

_ It’s okay. _

How can you be so sure?, he wants to ask, but all he hears is a soft rumble at the back of his mind. 

_ It’s okay. _

  
  


Hanamaki took another step forward, then another, and one more. Instinct soon grabbed him in a chokehold and he soon found himself running again.

Running, running, running.

He startled a cat as he ran through an alley. Someone hit the brakes in their car as he stormed over a street full speed. The car crashed with a parked one.

His lungs seemed to burn, as he came to a halt on a gravel road. Looking around he found himself at the park. Hanamaki lifted his head to sniff the air again, his left ear twitched. A large furry hand settled on the ground as he hunched over, still trying to pinpoint the location. 

He can hear joggers in the distance, which has him move more to the centre of the park, among the trees and bushes left for greenery. Hidden by the shadows, he can observe the park better, and move unnoticed. Despite his size, he could move silently if he wanted to. The joggers had a dog, he notes as he further takes in the scents from his surroundings. 

Didn’t take long for the dog to pick up his scent and start barking. Hanamaki backed further into the bushes and trees.

Wanting to avoid being detected by the joggers and their pesky little pooch had him move so he was downwind. He could now keep an eye on where the joggers were and move out of the way if it was needed. There shouldn’t be a reason for him to do that, though. This was a relatively secluded spot. 

He watched one jogger run past his hideout. And then one more. 

  
  


His wolf wanted to go, to chase, but with him still holding the reins, he could suppress the urge. For now. The night was silent. Hanamaki felt a soft breeze go through his fur, bringing with it a few scents, but he was concentrating on the one calling for him.

Now that it was stronger, he could make out a nuance of pine. Hanamaki found that he loved it. Who it belonged to, was still a mystery. Nose up in the air he followed a trail of pine… and something he couldn’t exactly pinpoint. Not from how diluted the trail thanks to the cool night air. 

His steps took him to the edge of the cluster of trees, out from the dark bushes. 

Perhaps there would be a stronger scent trail on the other side of the gravel road, that cut through the park in the middle. Looking over to his left, he sniffed the air that came from upwind. Perfect, no one was there, and the scent he smelled was light from the direction.

That would mean, that if he went down wind, he could probably--

A gasp startles him and he whirls around. There, just 13 feet away from him, on the bench under a broken park light, was a human. A human, who was staring at him wide eyed. 

Hanamaki pulled his head up, his back straightened, and tail up. Even with his back straight, his left hand was touching the ground, given how his knees were bent, and one of his legs was still stretched out behind him. 

This has never happened. 

This  _ should  _ never happen.

He’s usually so much more careful.

_ Kill. _

What? No. He can’t just kill someone for seeing him! Could he?

_ Hide. _

Hiding was a bit too late at this point! He was seen. Panic starts to settle in his stomach. The wind picks up from behind him, ruffling his fur. 

_ Kill. Hide. _

He lowers his head, lips curling up to bare sharp canines. His back curled as he turned to face the human fully. Grey eyes locked on the wide ones of the human. The human scrambled backwards on the bench he’d been sitting on, falling off but quickly recovering to stand up again. 

Legs shaking. 

Hanamaki growled as he slowly approached.

  
“Oh shit--” tumbled off the human’s lips as he moved to turn and run. He stumbled and fell onto his right side. 

The werewolf was in two gigantic steps on the human, one large hand pressing the human into the ground by one shoulder. There’s a cry of pain from the pressure, but it’s cut short with how his breath hitched as Hanamaki brought his head down with a loud snarl. The werewolf parted his jaws, surging forward to clamp down on the side of the human’s neck. 

His teeth barely even touched skin when Hanamaki stopped. What? What was this? He couldn’t... He couldn’t bite down. Saliva dripped from his open maw, running down the warm salty skin of the human.

Hanamaki couldn’t bite down. He couldn’t finish him off. It was like an unseen force was keeping his mouth open. No matter how much he tried, no matter how much the muscles twitched, his maw wouldn’t close. 

He pants, his hot breath washing over the sweat and drool covered skin of the human, and slowly his brain is starting to catch up. And when it does, it is like he’s being hit with a sledge hammer. 

  
  


Hanamaki Takahiro, werewolf and horror author, is unable to kill this human, because he recognizes the scent.

  
  


The scent of pine and wild strawberries. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> If you feel like it, let me know what you thought so far in the comments! Otherwise, I'm happy you even took a peek. So thank you!
> 
> Thanks to my friends for the love and support, and for believing in me and my writing..!  
> Many kisses to: [raggirare](https://archiveofourown.org/users/raggirare/pseuds/raggirare), MorphineFangs, Aiton, Jake, and Aly! (◍•ᴗ•◍)❤
> 
>  **If you want**  
>  you can catch me on [tumblr](https://ninnieartsies.tumblr.com/), and on [twitter](https://twitter.com/ninniearts)!


End file.
